


Splintered

by captainsourwolf



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Desk Sex, M/M, Smut, not a whole lot of plot to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: Link considers it some more. He’s always been the more willing of the two of them to just jump and damn the consequences. That’s how they started this new and exciting part of their relationship, after all. Link jumped and Rhett followed and they both have been drowning ever since.





	Splintered

“It’s not going to work.”

A harsh whisper is followed by a puff of quiet laughter.

“Of course it will! How many times have people sat on this thing? You’re sitting on it!”

There’s a beat of silence.

Link rolls his eyes. “Rhett, I’m telling you, it’s not going to work. There’s a difference between sitting and—“ he gestures wildly between the two of them and the Good Mythical Morning desk, “—this.” He pats it gently where he’s sitting almost on the edge, legs bent in front of him and spread open slightly, arms holding his weight as he leans back on them.

Rhett looks rough standing between his knees, front of his thighs pressing into the edge of the desk beneath Link. His hair is wild and unkempt from fingers running through it and gripping tightly only a few minutes earlier. His eyes, previously dark with arousal, are now slowly becoming bright and alert with amusement. He’s fidgeting with his hands a lot. One hand can’t stop _tap, tap, tapping_ fingers against Link’s jean clad thigh and the other is trying to work its way under the hem of Link’s shirt.

Link lightly smacks Rhett’s hand away from his shirt where he’s finally found a bit of skin to touch. Rhett huffs and rolls his eyes. “Stop it, I’m telling you this won’t work.” Link bats the hand away again. It’s getting more persistent.

Rhett leans forward and gives Link a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Come on,” he murmurs, “before the studio shuts down for vacation.” He presses another kiss to the other side of Link’s mouth.

Link huffs out a laugh. Rhett is persistent and stubborn when he wants what he wants. And right now he wants both of them on top of the desk. Link knows he’ll push and push, keep slipping warm fingers under his shirt, press gentle kisses all over his face; this has happened before when Rhett wanted something. He knows it drives Link crazy to the point of giving in willingly.

It started when they were having a season 15 wrap party. Nothing big: just them and the crew and some pizza. The end of the season was a long time coming after days and days of hard work and even harder nights. Everyone was talking and laughing and milling around the studio, conversations easy as they relaxed before heading home for a few much-needed weeks of vacation. Link had kept his distance from Rhett as they both chatted with various crew members, but every now and then he could feel Rhett boring holes into his back. It was a heated gaze that left Link swallowing his drink too fast while Chase explained what he’d be doing for the break.

Later, when the entire crew had helped clean up and close up the offices before leaving, it was just Rhett and Link. Stevie had been the last to leave after giving both men a hug and a knowing wink. She’s the only one that knows. Link watched her leave quietly. It didn’t take long for Rhett to come up behind him and wrap long arms around his chest.

“Happy season 15.”

Link sighed heavily and smiled. Rhett kissed behind his ear and then his cheek. A sudden tiredness had washed over him but Link didn’t care. It was a good tired after weeks of work finally being wrapped up and ready for release. Now he could relax and enjoy one last celebration before going away with his family.

Rhett wasted no time manhandling Link around until they were facing each other, bodies pressed close together and smiles on their faces. He found himself being walked backwards and pushed against the edge of their desk as Rhett leaned down to kiss him. It was all teasing bites and sharp teeth and shared air at first, his hands coming to rest in Rhett’s hair. Then Rhett grabbed him around the thighs and lifted so Link was balanced on the very edge of the desktop. The wood squeaked and Link tried to slide off to the floor. Rhett stopped him with a hand on his chest and Link willingly went down to his hands, legs coming to rest around Rhett’s hips and shoes hooking on his thighs.

But Link wasn’t feeling very confident in his position as the desk squeaked a few more times. Rhett didn’t seem to notice. Link swallowed. The more Link shifted the worse the squeaking got. Then there was a groan of the wood and Link shook his head as he dropped his feet to the floor and rose up further on his hands. This started the argument about whether or not the desk could withstand the both of them.

Now, Link is giggling through soft kisses on his face and neck, a beard tickling what lips don’t reach. Rhett is still pushing the only way he knows how with Link. Link continues to lean on his hands while Rhett assaults Link’s neck and face with dangerous kisses.

“You’re pushy tonight,” Link laughs. Rhett _hmmm’s_ against his skin; at the same time he scoops Link’s hands off the desktop. Caught off guard, Link gasps and his arms come up fast, hands grabbing at Rhett’s sweater to catch himself before he falls. Rhett laughs loudly against Link’s neck. “Not funny,” Link grumbles.

“Come on, Link,” Rhett needles and pulls back to see Link’s face, “just lie back. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He grins and waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Rhett, I’m telling you, man!” Link says breathlessly. He grips Rhett’s sweater tighter when Rhett slides his own hands up Link’s sides, dragging the shirt beneath with him. “I’m heavy enough just sitting. You heard the squeaking when you put me up here!” Nimble fingers get his shirt bunched up under Link’s arm pits.

“Do you trust me?” Rhett asks quietly. Link swallows hard at how quickly Rhett’s gaze has gone from amused back to aroused, green eyes dark and needy.

“It won’t hold,” Link answers just as quietly. Rhett kisses him slowly, tongue sliding on his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. He lets go with an obscene sound and Link groans. “It won’t hold.” He’s losing his resolve, and fast.

“It,” Rhett then presses a kiss to Link’s nose, “will,” another to the flush on his cheeks, “hold.” He finishes with another kiss on Link’s forehead. Link breathes heavily, hands gripping and releasing in Rhett’s top. “So again, do you trust me?”

Link worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. He watches his hands, gazes down Rhett’s long body where he’s still resting against the desk’s edge, then looks into Rhett’s face. Of course he trusts Rhett; they’ve been best friends for over thirty years and part of the reason it’s worked for so long is because of that trust. But still, this is a desk that’s seen a lot in its days. They’ve cycled through a few of them over the years and they’re always the same, never changing as they come from a close friend that specializes in creating sturdy furniture, but Link is still wary of how much the desk can truly withstand. He isn’t convinced that two grown men, one of them well over six foot, can successfully get up to some very—_enthusiastic_—fun without the desk suffering.

Link considers it some more. He’s always been the more willing of the two of them to just jump and damn the consequences. That’s how they started this new and exciting part of their relationship, after all. Link jumped and Rhett followed and they both have been drowning ever since. 

Rhett is still staring at him and his hands are bunching the shirt up under Link’s arms. Link sees the twinkle in his friend’s eyes. He knows that Link’s resolve is crumbling fast. So, Link does what he does best: he jumps.

“I trust you,” he exhales. Rhett grins when Link drops his hands from the sweater and raises his arms so Rhett can remove his tee. It flies somewhere behind the desk. Link fumbles with Rhett’s sweater until he gets it up and over the other’s head and arms. “But I still don’t think it’s going to hold both of us.”

Rhett groans in exasperation. He grabs Link by the thighs and effectively slides him forward in one swift move. The desk squeaks again. Link lets out an indignant cry when he falls off the desk and almost loses his balance. Rhett kisses him desperately, hands deftly unbuttoning Link’s pants and sliding the zipper down. Link grabs at Rhett’s bare shoulders and digs his fingertips into hot skin as Rhett cups him through the material, squeezing just so. He’s breathing hard and fast against Rhett’s mouth, both of them stilling against the other.

“Why’d you stop?” Link asks. There’s a hint of desperation coloring his voice. Rhett doesn’t answer; instead, he uses his hands and his body to guide Link down onto the wooden top. Link shudders against the cool surface and tries not to think about the squeaking. He might as well give in, Rhett’s not going to stop until they’re both on top of that desk, sweaty and desperately clinging to each other.

Link looks up at Rhett looming over him. He’s got a hand on either side of Link’s head and he’s grinning now. Link grips the other man’s hips with his own thighs and tries to get Rhett to move or do something. Link’s pants are splayed open in an obscene image as he lies there. He’s sure he must look just as wrecked as he feels. He shifts under Rhett’s gaze.

“Well? You’ve got me here,” Link raises his hips and Rhett’s eyes flutter closed, “now do something about it.”

Rhett suddenly grabs Link’s pants and underwear and Link moans when both are jerked down his hips and off his legs, exposing him to the cooler air of the studio. He lies there and listens and feels as Rhett removes his shoes and socks, drops them to the floor, then starts working on his own pants. Link grins to himself, closes his eyes as he listens to Rhett hastily pop the button and slide his own zipper down. There’s a satisfied sigh when clothes and shoes hit the floor.

Link wiggles on the desk. It squeaks louder and creaks a little with his body. He tenses but then relaxes when big hands smooth across his thighs and up his sides. He opens one eye to see Rhett staring at him. There’s an apprehensive expression on the other man’s face.

“No, no, no!” Link props himself up on his elbows. “You started this, Rhett, don’t back out now.”

“I’m not, I’m not!” Rhett hurries to say. He pats Link’s thighs thoughtfully. “I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to get up there. As I’ve said a million times before, I’m a big man.” He laughs loudly. Link rolls his eyes and pushes his hips up again.

“You’ll figure it out. Come on, I’m dyin’ up here,” Link says. He lifts his hips one more time, emphasizing to Rhett just how much he’s dying, drops back to the surface. Rhett’s hands close around his thighs and he laughs again, this time quieter. His breath puffs against Link’s sensitive skin causing him to shudder.

Link is starting to get impatient. His arousal is clear as day, resting against his stomach, and he begins to entertain the idea of just getting himself off, Rhett be damned. His skin feels tight and hot all over; he’s flushed from head to toe and turned on more than he was at the beginning of the night.

As nervous as the idea makes him, he can’t help but be turned on by the thoughts of Rhett taking him on the desk, _their desk_, the desk they sit at for hours on end day after day, feeding off each other’s energy. He’s wondered before what it would feel like to be up here with Rhett looming over him or pressing him into the side of the desk while he holds on or _Rhett_ lying up here, wrecked and vulnerable. He moans quietly to himself at the thought.

Rhett kisses his thighs and digs long fingers in. Then, before Link can process, Rhett is engulfing him in a wet heat, mouth lowering impossibly slow until there’s a nose touching soft skin. Link arches his back so fast the desk creaks. He doesn’t care. He grasps onto the edges of the wood desperately as Rhett starts to move.

Link gasps through heavy breaths. Rhett moves his mouth up and down, tongue teasing and teeth grazing to the point of driving Link crazy. He’s shifting his hips in time with Rhett’s movements; his hands are hurting from the vice grip he’s got on the edges. The desk squeaks with every thrust of his hips.

They stay like this for a few breaths, Link moaning loudly every time Rhett’s tongue does something new or his lips suck expertly as he hollows out his cheeks. One hand stays on Link’s thigh and the other wraps around the part of Link Rhett’s mouth can’t take in. It’s hot and it’s intense and Link doesn’t know if he can last long enough to get to where Rhett wants to go.

“Rhett—“ he gasps when Rhett licks a stripe on the underside, stopping at the head and sucking him back down, “Rhett, I’m not gonna—I’m not gonna last.” He moans loudly into the silent studio. “You have to stop.”

Rhett hums around him. The vibration makes Link’s skin crawl with a fresh wave of arousal. Link sits up on his elbows and watches the way Rhett’s head bobs and the way his long fingers wrap around him. Link’s sore fingers flex against the surface of the desk out of restlessness; he wants to touch. So he does. He reaches a hand down and cards his fingers through messy, sweaty hair and Rhett stills in his position. Link waits a beat, gives the other man the chance to breathe, before he’s pulling Rhett off him and to his mouth.

The desk shifts a little as they kiss. Link can taste himself on Rhett’s tongue. Rhett moans against his mouth and grabs Link by the underarms. He tugs and maneuvers and manhandles Link until they’re both standing on the floor, face to face, this time Rhett the one against the desk.

Link understands immediately. “Figured it out?” he asks, grinning wickedly. Rhett swoops down and kisses him once, twice, then a third time before hoisting himself up on the desktop. He winks at Link then flattens himself down, wiggles around until he’s situated with only his legs hanging off below the knees. Link swallows thickly.

Rhett reaches for him with needy hands. Link grabs a hand and kisses each finger and then the palm, licks Rhett’s hand thoroughly and guides it to his own arousal. Rhett smirks but does as he’s showed. His other arm goes to rest behind his head while the other starts to work. Link swallows again.

This will be tricky, Link knows, but there’s no stopping them now. They’re too far gone in each other to quit. So he takes a shaky breath in and braces himself on Rhett’s thighs and hoists himself up on the desk onto his knees. The desk groans with his added weight. He stops and sits back on his heels, resting his weight onto Rhett’s legs. Rhett’s hand has stopped moving and he’s a little wide eyed looking at Link.

The desk settles. They both sigh. Link takes that opportunity to crawl until he’s on his hands and knees over Rhett, looking down at him with a smile on his lips. Rhett reaches up for a kiss; they both giggle. Link forgets his arousal and need for a minute as he thinks about how this is going to work without seriously wrecking the desk and themselves.

Rhett smooths the worry lines between his brow. “Stop thinking so much and just do it.” Link shifts his body weight back onto his heels and knees, sitting his ass just below Rhett’s belly. He’s still thinking. Rhett grabs at him, wraps long fingers around him and strokes a few times. It’s a tactic that’s worked before. Link starts to think too much, so Rhett helps him get his mind elsewhere.

Link leans down and nips at Rhett’s bottom lip. He drags his sharp teeth across the plump lip and sucks it into his mouth, worrying it then soothing it with his tongue. Rhett’s hand falters but continues its movements. Link continues downward, teeth and lips grazing bare skin as he works his way across the expanse laid out before him. His fingers flutter against Rhett’s sides; he’s restless for more.

As he sucks a mark into Rhett’s rib cage, Link is vaguely aware that Rhett’s free hand has moved behind him and to the shelf that they both have beside them when they work. Link glances up and grins against the spot blooming before him. Rhett is searching, knocking things to the floor in a loud clatter in his haste. Link stops and sits up to help.

He sees the bottle of lotion before Rhett’s hand can find it. Rhett has managed to knock off just about everything else. Link snatches the bottle up and sits back on his heels. He shakes the lotion in front of the other man’s face and Rhett huffs out a laugh. He’s stopped moving his hand over Link—Link whines at the loss—and is reaching for the bottle, but Link keeps it just out of reach. The intensity focused on Link’s hands is startling as he pops the cap and squirts some of the liquid in his palm.

Link scoots forward some and raises up on his knees, toes keeping him balanced on the desk. It groans again. Link stills, then relaxes. Rhett is focused only on his hands. He swipes a finger through the thick lotion and raises up further, ignoring the louder creaks and moans of the desk, then reaches behind himself and sinks down slowly.

The sting and the sensation of working himself open is enough to make Link’s hips jerk forward. The desk sways a little with the move. Rhett grabs a hold of Link’s hips to help steady him as he works harder, eyes closing and mouth falling open on a gasp. His toes slip a little against the desktop; he regains his balance with his free hand on Rhett’s leg behind him. The lotion makes it hard to hold on.

“Come on, that’s enough,” Rhett moans and Link lets the hands on his hips guide him forward and up. He uses the lotion that’s left on his other hand to get Rhett ready beneath him, slick him up so it makes the descent smoother. Link bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, raises up enough for Rhett to get a hand underneath and hold himself steady.

When Link sinks, he sinks slowly. Rhett keeps holding him by one hip and helps him ease down. Rhett’s rocking his own pelvis in an easy rhythm. There’s a whisper quiet but noticeable groan from the surface below them. Link ignores it. He finally, _finally_ finishes lowering himself onto Rhett. They both audibly moan.

After a few jagged breaths they start to move. It’s cautious at first and they’re both wondering if the desk will hold, but eventually their cautious movements turn into more confident ones. Link rocks his hips a little harder, testing the limits of their surface. It doesn’t move. So he does it again and again, drawing ragged moans and exhalations from the man beneath him, Rhett’s left arm bending behind him to grab onto something, _anything_. There are beads of sweat rolling down Link’s back, dampening his hair, making his feet slide some on the top of the desk.

Link falls forward to his hands. They’re sweaty too and he struggles to find purchase on the smooth top as his movements pick up speed, Rhett meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate. He’s struggling to breathe already when Rhett wraps his right hand around him expertly and pulls a low moan from Link’s throat.

Suddenly there’s a crack and a loud groan that comes from neither of them. Link doesn’t stop. He sets his face into a determined one; Rhett throws his head back on a laugh and a moan. His knees come up behind Link as he plasters his feet on the edge of the desk the best he can. Link steels himself with a hand on Rhett’s sweaty chest and leans back, finding support on the strong thighs bracing him.

“It’s not gonna hold much longer,” Rhett jokes. Link rises up and back down slowly. “Yeah, that’ll help hold it together. Change of pace,” he says with an eye roll. Link smacks his chest and continues the slow rise and fall of his hips. Rhett’s head lolls to the side. The hand wrapped around Link is getting sloppy, loose.

The desk sways and creaks and moans the harder and faster they thrust against each other. Rhett’s using his feet to push up against Link’s downward thrust and the desk is getting dangerously loose with each one. It’s a losing battle but Link is achingly close to being finished and bringing Rhett with him. His hands lose their grip on Rhett’s body, so he wraps loose fingers around Rhett’s, the other hand finding a desk edge. He can feel the telltale tingling building in his stomach. It’s spreading rapidly and engulfing his entire body in a pleasurable heat.

“Link—“ The arm Rhett has bent behind his head tenses and Link can see the white knuckled grip Rhett has on the wood. His other grip stutters, squeezes and relaxes, Link the only one guiding their hands now. “Come on, baby. Almost there,” Rhett moans.

Link’s eyes flutter closed at the name. Rhett rarely calls him baby unless he’s excited during filming. It spurs him on, guiding their hands over him faster, rougher; his hips stutter on Rhett’s last upward thrust and they’re chasing each other, moaning through it loudly. Rhett stills completely as his body tenses under Link and Link paints his own stomach and their joined hands. The wood cracks from the force of Rhett’s vice like grip as they ride out their orgasms together.

Link struggles for breath; his chest is on fire and every nerve is screaming for oxygen. His head is thrown back and he rests against Rhett’s legs in exhaustion. They breathe together through the aftershocks; their joined hands stay where they are, wrapped loosely around Link. After a moment of getting his breath back, Link finally drops his hand and tries to slowly ease off of Rhett. Rhett whines high in his throat at the loss.

When he’s fully lifted away from Rhett, Link gingerly leans forward and kisses the other man. It’s a sweet relief from the intensity of their time spent together. He sighs deeply against Rhett’s mouth. Rhett lets go of the wood behind his head and Link startles at the laugh coming out of him.

“What’s so funny?” Link murmurs. He’s tired now, has no energy to talk much less move.

Rhett continues to laugh. “How do we get off this desk? It’s wrecked, man!” Link sits back abruptly, forgetting how exhausted he is for a moment. He opens his mouth to say something, but his abrupt move made the desk heave one more time.

Link scrambles off first. His feet hit the cold floor fast and then he’s taking Rhett by the arms to help him carefully get down. Just as Rhett’s feet touch down and he’s standing in front of Link, the desk gives a final creak. Rhett turns to look at it and Link starts laughing loudly.

The desk _is_ wrecked. It’s shiny with sweat and slick with lotion and a few scratches that must have come from fingers scrabbling for purchase are marring the surface stain. The crack they heard earlier is visible across the desk lengthwise, split just so that it bows slightly in the middle. The legs of the desk are splintered but not enough to collapse the wood entirely.

“I told you it wouldn’t hold us,” Link comments. Rhett smacks him on his ass in retort. A surprised laugh bursts out of him. “Let’s get cleaned up. We’ll deal with it later.”

Link takes Rhett’s hands and turns to lead him toward their shared office bathroom and the shower. The warm water is welcoming as they step in quickly. Rhett’s hands are big where they wrap around Link’s waist.

“Next desk we get needs to be made of stronger wood. That wood was just—“ Rhett waggles his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, shut up.” Link drags him into a wet kiss to silence him. 

——————————— 

The next day the doors are unlocked and the lights turned on. Stevie walks in in a hurry. She’s on the hunt for her planner, can’t go on vacation without the scheduling inside it. She searches her office and other spaces, finally ending up in the silent studio.

Stevie stops dead in her tracks. Everything is the same as they left it after clean up—except the Good Mythical Morning desk. It’s splintered and scratched and the middle is bowed inwards from a very visible crack. The surface is shiny from being vigorously cleaned.

Resting on the corner, being held onto the wood with tape, is a handwritten note. She snatches it off and groans in frustration.

“Boys!” She yells into the otherwise quiet studio. “I’ll murder them,” she murmurs to herself and crumples the paper in her hand. “At least they cleaned up after themselves.”

She sees her planner sitting on her desk behind the scenes, grabs it, and marches out of the building. Her phone is already in her hand to order a new desk, identical to all the ones before it.

_Stevie, we need another desk. This one just wasn’t strong enough to continue being a GMM desk. Not suitable for eating balls and anus if it’s not strong enough. Take it out of our paychecks, we’ll deal with it when we get back from vacation. R+L_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure their desk is a lot more sturdy than I've made it out to be. But I mean....*shrugs* that desk does things.


End file.
